


just another day

by maplegriffin



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Death, Hopeful Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, a bit of a vent fic so i apologize for that, cough all of them cough, cough hinamori cough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maplegriffin/pseuds/maplegriffin
Summary: he's tired. tired of all of it.(or, hisagi thinking about the aftermath of their betrayal.)





	just another day

**Author's Note:**

> uhh please don't read this if you don't feel okay with the topics tagged. they're there for a reason. it might not be as extreme as i make it out to be but always be better safe than sorry. also if you think there are any warnings that should be added, please let me know in a comment.
> 
> tbh idk why this is my first fic of 2019, kinda fucking depressing, god damn. is this a vent fic? ugh who knows. all i know is that i should be in bed.
> 
> hisagi is my favourite and i've wanted to write a character study or smth for him so here. jesus it's 2am already.
> 
> ~23:00 to 02:00, January 7 and 8, 2019

It's just another day.

Just another day of numbing, constant, activity. He's tired. Not really tired of the life he has, but, just tired.

Tired of the sting of betrayal. Tired of being wary of others. Tired of others being wary of him. Tired by the load of work. Tired of drinking his nights away and waking up and needing to down a dozen pills over the course of the morning to even dull the headache. Or taking so many pills during the night just to get a few minutes of rest when the nightmares became too much.

He was tired of Kira's dead eyes, too similar to the decorated fish that would sit on Ōmaeda's dinner plates, too similar to the eyes of the corpses of dead humans when they were too late to stop a Hollow's rampage. He was tired of Kira's dead eyes because the man was too young to be dead, unfeeling and crushed with the heavy weight of guilt and broken trust. But he still cried, but whether from grief or self-hatred, Shūhei didn't know but at least meant he was feeling _some_ sort of emotion. He was beginning to wonder if he, himself, had any of it left.

He was tired of Rangiku-san's masks. She was the same, but not. To an outsider, maybe. She was still the lazy and work-avoiding lieutenant that everyone knew. But to Shūhei, after a night full of murmured secrets and shared warmth, there was a certain darkness surrounding her, a veil of mourning and guilt, hidden under her so many layers. A layer of sorrow for an old friend lost, another for the lack of foresight, both of which she wrapped around herself like a blanket under the person she tries to be. And mourning. Mourning for someone who has yet to be buried six feet under, like the saying. He wonders how much you can mourn for someone once they've left your life.

Was it until you couldn't remember the good memories anymore? Or the bad? Was it until you could forgive them for leaving you? Mourning, mourning, mourning, how much could you mourn someone who isn't even dead yet?

He was tired of it. Tired of his friends being so close to death. Tired of Hinamori's slumped shoulders and the distance in her eyes. The slight stutters in her speech. How she would flinch when someone got too close to her. It was damning to see her reduced to this. Where was her courageous spirit? Her kind heart and inspiring words? Where was the girl he had come to view as a younger sister? He was tired and sad, perhaps mourning in his own way for what Momo used to be. He hoped that she would heal. Hoped that all of them would.

For himself, he wasn't quite sure anymore.

He's tired. So tired. People hadn't expected him to keep moving after the betrayal. But he did. Sometimes, he could still hear the hushed whispers of doubt, of _spy and Tōsen's pet_. Sometimes, he wonders if he should have just given up. Stopped moving forward. Permanently.

Maybe it wasn't too late to do so. Death was something he didn't fear, maybe not as much as others. Maybe he could....

But he was tired of the dead and dying. The scent of blood and sweat, tears and death. The cries of agony and pain. 

And isn't that ironic?

The one thing he was so tired of, was what his soul represented.

But he can't get out of this constant cycle. He has to move forward no matter his feelings on the matter. Because he has to. 

Because what's driving him is seeing Kira smile again, making Rangiku-san laugh, Hinamori's bright eyes, hearing Izuru getting lost while talking about his novel, letting Rangiku dragging him out to drink for fun - not to drown their sorrows, seeing Momo being excited over a new book or story she read.

It's an idealistic, bright future, so unlike their current dark, desponding present. But it's a future he holds dear because it's all he really has.

So he will push himself even if he's tired, prove that he's still loyal to the Gotei. All he really has is that, as well as the hope for Tōsen-taichō and death.

But Death was always by his side.

Even when he's tired of it.

He's tired of thinking those thoughts, but in his life, that's just another day.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading??
> 
> have a good one and may you be well.


End file.
